


Decompress

by tinknevertalks



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 20:04:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14196684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinknevertalks/pseuds/tinknevertalks
Summary: After a mission almost going bad, Nikola and Helen rest in the only place available to them.





	Decompress

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, most of these fics are written because prompts on Tumblr (you are more than welcome to come over and join in by the by). DownToTheSea asked for two hugging fics - a hug in lieu of kissing (which was hard to write because I tend to just have them both just randomly kiss - they're drabbles up on Tumblr) and this, cuddling falling asleep. I hope you enjoy lovely!
> 
> And my eternal thanks to Rinari7, who beta'd this complete mishmash of words and helped me find something pretty awesome in it. Thank you darling! :D

The motel room they were sharing could only just be called a room, with barely enough space to sidestep around the bed, let alone put down their backpacks. The curtains were moth-eaten and ragged, the carpet threadbare where so many previous visitors had walked. There wasn’t even a chair. Off to one side, hidden behind a door warped by water damage, a small bulb flickered in a tiny bathroom. As they were on the run from SCIU, however, they couldn’t use any of Helen’s usual resources; pokey motel off an almost dirt track road was it. Not that Nikola needed to rest, but this mission, and the sudden arrival of the SCIU team, hit Helen harder than expected, her usual can do-will do attitude withering and wilting around the edges with each missed bullet her enemies shot her way.

He missed the quietly proud woman who revelled in their wonder at the underground Sanctuary, her greatest masterpiece. 

Right now, her shell existed at the foot of the bed, elbows on knees, hands hanging limply, her back an almost perfect curve. The guns that usually adorned her legs lay innocently beside her, whilst her ponytail was escaping the elastic. If Nikola didn’t know better, couldn’t hear her breathing, he’d say she was carved of stone, and liable to crumble at any second.

“Stop staring at me.” Her first words in over an hour.

Nikola held up his hands and shook his head, knowing his usual smile would have her reaching for a gun without a moment’s hesitation. “Not staring,” he explained, taking off his jacket before leaning momentarily against the wall.

Derision at his comment ran through her whole body - shoulders moving, face sneering (not that he could really see her face, her head remained bowed), fringe falling into her eyes - the snort soft and defiant. “If you say so,” she muttered. “What’re you doing?” Louder, but just as exhausted.

Sighing, pushing away from the wall and sitting on the bed, he asked, “Do you see anywhere else for me to sit in this hole?” He was far enough away from her that the sagging mattress wouldn’t affect her position, or make her fall into his shoulder. The duvet felt dusty beneath his palms.

“I’m _so_ sorry about our accommodations. Shall I arrange a holding cell with a matching _en suite_ for you, or would the hole in the ground they have planned for us suit better?” Her head was up, her back straight. It was a start.

Keeping his voice calm (because really, they didn’t need the front desk calling with complaints), he said, “Hey, don’t take it out on me. I told you I could fix the engine--”

“The same way you said their tracking beacons were out?” she shot back, not letting him finish his sentence. She still didn’t look at him.

Nikola huffed. “They were. Why would I say otherwise?”

“Because you just assume everything’s fine and carry on regardless. You don’t stop and wait to see results. You just run in and expect someone else to tidy up your mess. You always have.”

Nikola winced. She’d gone straight from exhaustion to anger. “I checked them, Helen. Those little... buggers as you so lovingly call them, were dead.” He felt in his pocket and dragged out a small black disk. “Still dead.”

That got her moving. Head snapping round, panic unfurling in her frame, her words were quiet and frantic. “What in God’s name are you doing with that in your pocket? You’ll lead them right to us.”

“It’s been dead the whole way here,” he reassured her. “If it wasn’t we’d still be in the forest.” Holding out his hand, he watched as she plucked the bug from his palm. “There’s nothing coming from that disk Helen.” He didn’t want to say it, but he had to. “You know, they only started tracking us when we got the call from William.”

“How bloody dare you?” she cried, standing up, hands balling into fists. “Will isn’t working for them.”

“Did I say that?” he asked, still on the bed, leaning back to look up at her face. “Boy Wonder’s an imbecile but even he knows who’s boss.” He shook his head. “It's worse.”

“The phones,” she breathed, sitting back down on the bed (right next to him, he was happy to notice).

“Probably the radios too,” he added, plucking the tiny disk from Helen’s relaxed fist.

“Until we sort out a method of communication, we’ll be flying blind anytime we come up.” She sighed, and Nikola leant on one hand to stroke her ponytail and back. “Add that to the list.”

“You have a list?”

Another derisive snort. “A hundred and thirteen years of planning and I neglected the blasted phone. Wait.” She looked at him shrewdly. “Is that why you threw ours away?”

He nodded. “I blasted them with an EM pulse but didn’t want unexpected visitors amassing around us.”

Distractedly, she nodded. Then, like a snapping violin string in slow motion, the fight and anger dissipated from her frame, leaving only the miserable exhaustion from before. He scooted backwards on the bed until he felt the cushioned headboard against his back. Swinging his legs up onto the mattress, boots already off by the door, he murmured her name and opened his arms.

“What are you doing now?” she asked, shaking her head, a whisper of a smile in the corner of her lips.

“I thought it was obvious,” he answered, “I’m offering you a hug.”

“I don’t need a hug,” she said, eyeing him warily.

“Didn’t say you needed one,” he countered, arching his eyebrow. “However, I know how you cuddle your pillow as you sleep, and I am offering my services.”

“I hadn’t realised ‘teddy bear’ was in your wheelhouse,” she answered, slowly unzipping her boots.

“Eh.” He smiled when she crawled up the bed and into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist, her head on his shoulder. Dropping a kiss on her crown, he murmured, “Have you always been an octopus in bed?”

“Are you complaining?” she asked, sighing semi-contentedly, still a bit tense from their almost-capture.

“No.”

They lay there for a while in the darkening room, their breathing and the birds’ twilight song their only music, lulling them down to quiet thoughts. He stroked her hair and back, sure she was asleep, when she murmured, “You and Henry should design some new form of communication for us.”

He didn’t insult her by pretending not to hear her words, but design something with her boy?

“You both work well together,” she said, as if he’d spoken his thought. “And even you have to admit he has an affinity for technology that lends itself to yours.”

“It is nice to have someone who can conceptually keep up,” he admitted.

“And it’ll be nice to have you both home,” she said, even quieter than before.

“Home?”

She nodded, nuzzling into his sweater. He grinned at her happy sigh. “The Sanctuary.”

“It’s the first time you’ve called it home.” He twirled a lock of hair around his fingers, half waiting for an answer as the pressure of her arms around his lower ribs gradually loosened, the weight of sleeping Helen resting heavier against his shoulder. Neither had moved from their prone position whilst they were bathed in the sunshine’s dying rays. Her breathing, low and deep, soothed him and soon she wasn’t the only one asleep.


End file.
